Cupid's Arrow

While waiting for the fighting tourneys with his twin, the gangly youngster was taking the opportunity to join in on some of the games at the carnival. This was a rare occasion where he was out and about during the day, and his skin was certainly a bit worse for wear. Whenever he was idle, he did his best to heed his mother's warnings and find some shade to hunker down in. It kept the growing sunburn from getting worse, and improved the vision of his weak left eye a little. However, out among the throngs of attendees vying for their turns at a game or grabbing a snack, he walked with his head cocked in favour of pointing his melanistic right eye slightly more forward to improve his range of vision.  

The siren song of a pale coydog offering a test of skill was far too tempting to resist, and so off the youngster went to check out the booth where the russet brindled canine leaned casually against a counter. He watched a few of the players try their luck at tossing a dart at the shimmering balloons pinned to the backboard of the booth. It couldn't be that hard, right? Once it was his turn, the champagne youngster grabbed hold of a dark with crimson feathers adorning its dull end. It took a moment of fumbling to arrange it in a way that he liked between the long digits of his taloned forepaw, but when he was happy with his grip, he let the dart fly. A broad grin curved over his maw as he watched it sail towards the board, slate marked tail wagging with excitement. What was he going to win?!  

"speech"